The hardest part of this is leaving you
by Torie Rilistkrytcat
Summary: Over a year after TDWT, Heather is confronted with a ruthless disease that could end her life forever, and finds herself a dying shell in hospital. However, a certain estranged Latino will do anything he can to prevent the cancer from taking her away from him. Angsty A/H, MULTICHAP.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own total drama**

**Note: This fic will be sad and depressing at some moments. I hope no one who has had cancer or known someone with cancer finds this insensitive, and I apologise if anything I put in here is incorrect.**

**I have to admit, I got the title from the MCR song "Cancer." The fic wasn't actually inspired by the song, but when I was thinking up titles, it came to mind and just seemed to fit.**

**Also, I typed this via my IPad, so please excuse any weird typos that are due to autocorrect.**

* * *

"Hello?" It was five am, and Heather really wasn't in the mood to take an early morning phone call. She'd been under the weather for a while now, feeling horribly lethargic and nauseous; she figured she must have caught some kind of extreme stomach flu, since she had been vomiting infrequently for two weeks now.

When the voice of Chris McLean responded a little too cheerfully, she cursed at her state-of-the-art cell phone; while it had been over a year since total drama world tour and she had not interacted with any of the contestants since, the threat of a reunion had been looming. Sure enough, Chris arrogantly bugled that she was invited to a "super fun and dramatic reunion!" on the Tuesday two weeks from then.

"Do I have to?" She groaned automatically, though her voice was a little hoarse due to whatever illness she had. Even in full health, she would have been deadest against reunitng with the others again on television, and this stomach affliction had been draining her of all energy. The sound of Chris's irritated whining set her teeth on edge; she really hated his stupid, smug voice...

"Look, I'm sick!" She snarled weakly, sinking down on her bed with a yawn, before wincing at the strange churning that empowered her stomach once again.

"Well, you have a _con-tract_!" Chris reminded in a sing-song voice, and she could almost see his grinning face, covered with "designer stubble," as he liked to call it. On better days, she would have spat some sarcastic remark to him about just where on the hosts's body she would have liked to insert her contract, but she felt another wave of sickness attack her intestines, and she found herself retching slightly.

"Look- whatever you say," she muttered, wanting to kick herself for being so submissive, but she couldn't; the darkened walls of her room seemed to blur slightly, her head feeling as though she was encased in water. Chris tutted mockingly.

"Really, Heather?" He snorted. "You're not tantruming? Are you planning to blow up the studio or something, then?"

However, before she could respond sarcastically, Heather felt her stomach twist once more and then, the phone falling from her hand onto the floor while Chris called her name loudly, she was stumbling across the hall to the bathroom, reaching the toilet just in time for a fresh wave of vomiting. The violent retching sounds disturbed her parents; a light switched on from down the hall, while Heather winced internally, and she heard her parents' exhausted voices as they stirred.

"Selfish girl. Does she even know what time it is?" Her father muttered, and she only had time to grimace sourly at how insensitive her father was before once again she was leaning disgustingly over the bowl. However, her mother- the only one in her family to actually care for her middle child- muttered something gentle, before her light footsteps were heard padding down the hallway. Heather cringed as the bathroom light flicked on; she found it demeaning to be discovered doing something so foul. Her mother stared at her with pity that Heather refused to accept, before bending down slowly to her daughter's side.

"Go away, Mom." She muttered brusquely. "It's just this damn stomach flu, Okay?"

However, the look of concern on her mother's face was unconvinced, and she reached out to brush a strand of hair from her daughters's sweat-plastered face.

"Honey, I don't think stomach flu lasts this long," She informed her slowly, but Heather brushed her off with a roll of the eyes, trying to stare away from the contents she'd just purged into the lavatory. However, wrinkling her nose slightly, her mother stared down into the toilet, before a gasp emitted from her lips, and she flinched. Heather snorted slightly.

"Seriously, Mom, it's _puke_. I mean, I know it's gross, but you've seen it before..."

Howevef, the ashen look that had fallen on her mother's face silenced Heather for a moment, and she blinked slowly at her mother.

"Honey," she breathed slowly, placing a hand on her daughters's shoulder; Heather would have usually shrugged it off, but now she stared in confusion.

"What?" She barked out finally, feeling pretty disturbed by how horrors truck her mother's eyes were; slowly, she blinked down into the toilet, before recoiling instantly.

Amongst the bile that she'd just regurgitated, there was a thick stream of glistening blood.

* * *

"I'm fine," Heather growled sharply, while her mother stared disbelievingly at her, one hand poised on the phone.

"I really think you should see a doctor," She said firmly, folding her arms across her expensive kimono, while Heather glowered at her. The girl's fingers clenched in the wood grain of the table angrily; she hated the undeterrable expression on her mother's face, she hated being told what to do, and most of all, she hated doctors; hated the idea of being prodded and poked, and talked down to...

"Oh, yeah- Chris called, and we've got a stupid -CENSORED- total drama reunion in two weeks." She said, trying to evade the subject of her health.

"Language, Heather," Her mother chided, whipping pieces of bread from the toaster and dropping them onto an elegant china plate; Heather rolled her eyes at the reprimand.

"Ugh, I don't want to go, but Chris says it's part of our fu-" she cleared her throat, remembering her Mother's comment about language. "I mean, our _stupid_ contract."

"I'll put it on the calendar, then." her mother set down a plate of toast in front of her, which Heather glared down at, though she was pleased that she seemed to have avoided the subject of her illness...

"You're still going to the doctor, Heather." Her mother threw over her shoulder while she made herself a coffee. Heather shrieked angrily, folding her arms.

"Mom, I'm nineteen!" She snapped, gritting her teeth. "I can do what I want, you know."

Her mother gave her a frustrated glance, and the clear anger in her eyes made her resemble her daughter more than ever for a moment.

"You're bringing up blood, Heather! It isn't normal!" Her voice ascended shrilly, causing Heather's father to grumble something about keeping it down from where he sat in the lounge room. Heather looked away childishly, refusing to listen. However, another wave of nausea triggered at the scent of the food set in front of her, and her mother gave a click of her tongue.

"This could be something serious, like a stomach ulcer." She reached out to gingerly touch her daughters's hand, but Heather snatched it back, scowling.

"Stop treating me like a child." She growled indignantly. Her mother's brow furrowed under her pristine black hair, and her lips twisted into the exact scowl Heather wore.

"Then stop acting childish." She shot back, her quick tongue yet another trait that Heather had inherited from her. Heather's eyes narrowed furiously, before she ascended sharply, shoving her plate away from her.

"Fine!" She threw her hands up violently. "I'll see the stupid doctor. Even though it is for nothing." Her head cocked to the side viciously, hair swishing as she angrily scrutinized her mother. "_Happy_, MOM?"

Heather's mother did not flinch; she was accustomed to Heather frequently rounding on her and using bitter sarcasm. Instead, she pushed the plate of toast towards Heather.

"You should eat something." She said, voice now monotonous. Heather looked down at the food, but felt another pang of fatigue run through her.

"I'm not hungry." It was stubborn, but she was not lying; Heather's appetite had quelled almost completely over the past few weeks, and the very notion of food just increased her stomach's churning.

* * *

Despite her protests, Heather's mother accompanied her to the Doctor's office, while her daughter complained that she was belittling her. Yet, they both knew that if Heather had gone on her own, she would have snapped bluntly at the doctor that she was fine, and turned on her heel and stomped away. She sat, dutifully and unwillingly reeling off a list of her symptoms to him, while the doctor jotted them down. He proceeded to question her, asking about other possible symptoms, forcing her to admit with mortification that along with vomiting, she had been noticing a pain whilst eating and swallowing, bouts or painful and extended indigestion and, though Heather was very reluctant to admit it, discolored faeces.

Her mother stared in shock as Heather admitted to symptoms she had brushed off, finding excuses for, while the doctor continued to take notes, asking her questions about her lifestyle and diet as well. When he had finished the look in his face was grave; it sent a chill down Heather's spine.

"I'm afraid that this is far worse than a stomach flu, Miss Wilson." He informed her, and a ripple of shock crossed Heather's face. This did not sound good; his voice had the strained calmness of delivering bad news, and panic crept in.

"Then, what is it?" She queried sharply, knotting her hands tightly together and praying that this was just some stupid nightmare; there was no way she could be seriously ill... Was there?

"It could be internal bleeding in the stomach, or a stomach polyp or ulcer. However, I am going to book you in for an endoscopic ultrasound to view your stomach more closely-"

Heather's mouth fell open. An ultrasound sounded suspicious, and her throat contracted at the hideous premonition.

"Why?" she spat out, and her mother's hand reached out and gripped hers, both feeling a mortuary source of dread for the word; Heather was in too much of a panic mode to pull away from her mother, and for the first time her fingers clenched tightly around her parent's in fear.

The doctor gave her a piteous look, eyes sad and burdened from behind a slim pair of glasses.

"Of course, we will need to conduct further examinations, but from what you have described to me, your symptoms seem to indicate quite a severe stage of-"

_Don't say it, _Heather thought wildly_, Look, this has to be a mistake; please, whatever you do, don't say the C- word..._

"Stomach cancer."

* * *

**Well, quite a short first chapter. Poor Heather, I'm sorry for saddling you with the most horrible disease ever :( But who knows, maybe she'll get through her tests and be fine... Except, unfortunately, that isn't going to happen for Heather. :(**

**I've done research on the symptoms, stages, diagnosis and treatment, so hopefully this fic is accurate enough. **

**Alejandro will come into the story later, and play quite a large part. And yes, this is an Aleheather fic. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own total drama**

**Thanks for the reviews!**

**Note: This fic will be sad and depressing at some moments. I hope no one who has had cancer or known someone with cancer finds this insensitive, and I apologise if anything I put in here is incorrect.**

**I have to admit, I got the title from the MCR song "Cancer." The fic wasn't actually inspired by the song, but when I was thinking up titles, it came to mind and just seemed to fit.**

**Also, I typed this via my IPad, so please excuse any weird typos that are due to autocorrect.**

**(Yes, I was lazy and recycled a lot of AN from last chapter. Sorry...)**

**Also, this chapter will start bringing Alejandro into the story, because this is going to be Aleheather. If you hate Alejandro and Aleheather, then don't read this.**

* * *

Heather's life suddenly crashed into a nightmare from the moment the doctor uttered that dreaded, chilling word. She had never even entertained the notion of ever getting cancer; she'd always seen herself as indestructible, and this sudden weakness shocked her into silence. Her mother seemed just as shocked as Heather; the two aimlessly stopped for lunch at a cafe, but neither ate; both stared at their food, their appetites shot. The possibility still hadn't sunk in, and subconsciously both mother and daughter were clinging onto the hope that this really was an advanced stomach flu or even an ulcer.

The ultrasound was scheduled three days from her doctor appointment, yet somehow Heather didn't mention it. Her mother tried to bring the subject up, but her daughter lashed out before storming into her room. Though it tied in with her natural rude disposition anyway, the truth was that Heather was terrified- terrified that speaking of it would make the whole situation real. It was worsened by the transparent false concern her father displayed; when her mother sullenly broke the news, he blinked behind his gaudy glasses, before forcing a downcast look on his place.

"That's such a shame, Heather Feather." He said dutifully, and Heather's teeth snapped together. "But maybe you won't be sick..."

His words were ridiculously patronising, and she wanted to slap her father for his indifference. And yet, somehow it still hadn't sunk in yet; she was still trying to ignore the niggling pains that attacked her mind; what if she really DID have cancer... It wasn't until the night before her ultrasound when, spending her usual long stint in the bathroom while prepping herself for bed, when the final realization hit her like a ton of bricks. Somehow, the one realisation sent her tumbling into despair; her mother heard Heather shriek a curse word, and rushed to the bathroom to find her daughter perched on the edge of the bathtub, clutching her face in her hands.

"Mom... My HAIR..."

It seemed a little silly; if the results were positive, then there would be more important things to worry about than her hair. And yet, the realisation that she could potentially lose her hair once again made it seem terrifyingly real for her; the nightmare disease, man's worst enemy...

Somehow, though she hated displaying any affection towards her parents, Heather found herself sobbing into her mother's arms. It disgusted her how stupid and immature she was acting, but now the realisation had set in, the years wouldn't stop.

For the first time in years, Heather was _scared_.

* * *

She wasn't allowed to eat on the day of the ultrasound. This wasn't a problem for Heather; she didn't eat much anyway, and her almost constant nausea cancelled out any chance of keeping food down. Her father had been barely emotional as she'd set out for the hospital, and though her mother attempted to comfort her, Heather had grown even more withdrawn and evasive about her condition since her breakdown the previous night.

The hospital was oppressive; the endless corridors of white, blinding overhead lights and medicinal smell making the whole place overpowering. Heather scowled at every nurse and patient she passed as a doctor lead her into the procedure room. Inside, her heart was hammering painfully, but she tried to swallow down her horror at the situation; she refused to appear weak, even in such a vulnerable position. The doctor entered, with a false smile slapped on his face.

"So, Miss Wilson,"

Heather scoffed lowly in response, folding her arms. "Get it over with."

The doctor blinked at how abrupt she was, before turning back to his standard clipboard. "It's a standard procedure; you'll be given drugs, and then-"

The teenager flipped her hand irritably at him; she was _not_ in the mood to be patronized. "Yeah, yeah. Just get on with it."

Stiffly, Heather lay down on the hard, crackling hospital bed, while they prepared the necessary equipment. She stared dully at the ceiling, trying to think about pointless topics; anything to take her mind off the reality that she was tested for the C disease...

Heather barely remembered the ultrasound itself, as she'd been sedated before and had fallen into a drug-induced stupor. An hour later, the effects were fading, and she was led into what the nurse referred to (in a voice a little too chipper for Heather's mood) as "the recovery area", which turned out to be another room of equally uncomfortable hospital beds, the only difference being a poorly-focused television playing across from her.

"You must be feeling a bit groggy," the nurse cooed to her, in the way someone would speak to a child. Heather's teeth snapped together at the condescending tone.

"I'll get you some lunch, and then the doctor will be back with the results."

_The results... _Those two clinical words made Heather's blood run cold. As the nurse brought in an unappealing tray, she tried to keep her mind off the possibility that the results would completely decimate her life...

The hospital food made her feel even sicker just looking at it; a grey chicken leg with the meat and flesh hanging off as though it was rotting, a smear of what was probably supposed to be mashed potato but had the consistency of lumpy custard and some yellowing peas that looked like they'd turn to mush the second her fork touched them stared up at her from a plastic tray, served with a package of congealed gravy and a small compartment of crumbly yellow sludge that the nurse had told her was dessert. Her stomach, which had been experiencing a faint tingling sensation since the ultrasound, churned in protest; recently, she'd been having difficulty keeping down edible food, so she doubted her chances of stomaching the out-of-date rubbish they'd presented her with.

Still, some of her nausea was gone, replaced with a minute amount of hunger. Curling her lip, Heather forked a spoonful of mashed potato, but the vomit-like consistency made her throat contract. Instead, she turned to the only half-edible things on the tray; a bottle of watery juice, and a somewhat bruised apple.

As she nibbled dully at the food, her mother appeared tentatively in the doorway. Instead of greeting her, Heather gestured viciously at the food on the tray.

"Doesn't our health insurance cover food?" she muttered sourly, chomping down on her apple again. "This is disgusting- it's probably poisonous..."

With a sligh sigh at Heather's ever-present attitude, her mother placed a hand over hers, looking around for a moment.

"They told me your results would be back in an hour or less." she informed her daughter. Though Heather said nothing, one of her fists contracted slightly, tense. Though avoiding the issue seemed childish, Heather really didn't want to be reminded of why she was there. Her mother could sense this, and attempted to change the subject.

"If the food's really that bad, I coud go and pick something up for you," she offered lamely, but Heather gave an indifferent shrug; she didn't really care, since now the last dregs of the sedation were wearing off, her nausea had begun to return.

Her mother talked about idle, trite things to try and keep the mortuary atmosphere out the conversation, but Heather felt like an internal wreck. She'd never even considered herself being in a scenario like this, and she had no idea how to feel; all she could do was hope desperately and bitterly that the Doctor's suspicions had been wrong.

The second that one of the hospital doctors entered with an envelope, both mother and daughter straightened up. Heather scanned his expression, and her heart nearly stopped beating at that moment; instead of a cheerful everything's-fine smile, his face looked grim, as though he was working the courage up to deliver bad news. Her hands gripped the rail of the hospital bed tightly, and she felt close to hyperventilation as he opened his mouth.

_No, no, no... Just say it's an ulcer or a polyp, or even a scalpel lodged in my intestines... PLEASE, this is NOT happening..._ she thought wildly, as he pulled a sheet fron the envelope displaying the black and white results of her ultrasound.

"I'm afraid it's bad news, Miss Wilson..."

* * *

He hated her. Hated her with every fibre of his being; loathed her right to the core.

It had taken months before his body had been restored, and even so, in bright lights the lingering traces of scars still tore up his arms and torso. Every time he saw them, they remindEd him of HER; the she-devil who'd inflicted the excruciating pain on him. He had been wrong to let his guard down, stupid to open up his heart to someone just as- and possibly even more- evil than himself. Even when his looks were returned to their former glory, he would find himself flashing back to the dark days, when the agony had blinded him so much that he couldn't tell the difference between night and day; all he could feel was the burning, and the emotional pain where his heart had been torn out.

Every time he remembered the agony, he'd repeat the mantra in his head; _Heather did this to me. It's her fault. I hate her._

The news of a stupid total drama reunion was not welcomed by Alejandro. He tried so hard to forget total drama; it had been the first time he'd ever lost something, and the first time he'd ever failed to win a woman over. Chris had been insistent that all contestants had to turn up, drawing the word "contract" out threateningly over the phone. However, Alejandro immediately began thinking of ways to avoid the reunion; there was no way he would be attending, only to be laughed at by a group of immature losers. They'd probably mock him, throwing his original cockiness back in his face and talking about Heather had taken him down. Worse than that would be seeing Heather herself... He couldn't, and _wouldn't_ do it.

_I don't want to see her because I hate her. I would have to restrain myself from reaching up and strangling her after what she did to me..._

He told himself that all night after Chris informed him of the upcoming reunion and reopened old wounds. And somehow, there was still an element of doubt inside Alejandro, and a tiny longing to see her again.

* * *

Heather stared, whole body feeling numb, at the X-ray. There was a hideous white blotch marring the image, crawling across the stomach... She didn't know much about medical things, but Heather could see that was unhealthy; she knew it was a tumor, and from the size she was pretty sure that it wasn't benign...

The words that spilled from the Doctor's lips barely registered in her head, as she tried desperately to stay composed and fight back tears. Still, some words lodged in her horrified brain, and though she could hear her mother beginning to sob beside her, Heather was rigid with shock.

"It's malignant, and at quite an advanced stage," he was telling her somberly. "The tumor has grown into the outer layer of the stomach, and we've detected three lymph nodes that have also been infected. I am very sorry, Miss Wilson-"

"It's... Cancer?" Heather forced her mouth to form legible words, though her response was a bit cumbersome. The doctor nodded slowly, and Heather felt as though her brain was going to overload for a moment; everything was over... Her life was ruined...

"We're going to have to schedule you for surgery as soon as possible, before the tumor spreads even more. However, since it has already spread to your lymph nodes, there is a high possibility that chemotherapy will also be neccessary..."

_No... Not chemotherapy as well..._

She found her lips quivering as she tried to speak, eyes darting frantically around the room. While the doctor continued to console her, she shook him off; there must have been a mistake, and those must have been someone else's ultrasound pictures. There was no way that _she_ had cancer; She was Heather Wilson, strong and determined; nothing would ever stop her; she was a bitch, she could outsmart anyone, she never let anything get her down...

And she was terrified out of her wits.

* * *

**Okay, I know these chapters are really short, but they'll get longer as the fic goes on, I promise. Also, sorry if the Alejandro bit was a bit out of context and disjointed, but he'll be in the fic a LOT more later on.**

**It seems kind of weird, because I know in my fic "All or Nothing" Heather's mother is really uncaring, but she's a lot more supportive in this. Eh, she's not a canon character, so her personality can be different...**

**Sorry, Heather! I feel so bad for doing that to you :(**

**This will be my last update for a while, because I'm going on vacation for four days starting tomorrow (or for those who live in the USA, later today) so I am SO SORRY if anyone updates a fic or messages me and I can't review the fic or respond because I'm not going to be online for a while.**

**See y'all later :)**


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